


End

by tealourry



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Mpreg, Oneshot, Supernatural - Freeform, blind, blind oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealourry/pseuds/tealourry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean starts to hemorrhage and goes into labour, and he knows only one of them will survive, and he chooses his daughter. </p><p>Whether or not Sam and Cas will honor that sacrifice remains unknown. </p><p> </p><p>NOTE:</p><p>I tried something a bit different. I was given a oneshot to complete based on a meme found on Tumblr. The request was that of Supernatural. I'm considering this something called a "blind" oneshot, because I don't know much about the series. </p><p>Guidelines:</p><p>I wasn't allowed to look anything up, except use what knowledge I already had.</p><p>That was basically very little, but seen in the work.</p><p>Please don't send any criticism that I don't know anything: I did this purely with no knowledge whatsoever, and I know very little, as stated above. Please review, tell me if I came close to anything in the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	End

_Word count: 4802 (Character count: 26751)_

 

The time on the digital clock read 2:47 in the morning. The whether was awful, loaded with thunder and lightning, and the angel in the dark room was stood staring blankly out the window. His face was still, no traces of emotion other than deep thought etched on it, and his mind was running rampant, filled with worry, and wonder. The seven w's zooming through his main mind (who, what, when, where, and why). 

 

He remembers the night _perfectly._ Every detail, every aspect, every emotion and every last possible thought.  And it absolutely scared him. To this day, all these months later, Sam, Dean, and Castiel included, couldn't figure out how or why any of it happened. And yet it did.

 

This weather was an exact copy and horrific reminder of that terrifying and fateful night.

 

*

 

_"Can either of you find the light switch?" Dean had called out. From his spot by the wall, he was blindly tapping along it for a small flat or prominent outdent._

 

_Echoes of 'no' came from his brother and the angel on opposite sides of the large-and due to bumping into things several times-crowded room._

 

_"Even at this rate we're all blind," was his lame inward retort._

 

_The trio had come up to this large, abandon-looking house after having gotten lost less than an hour beforehand. Sam had been driving when the skies had first opened up, and Castiel had given the warning of 'you might want to pull over'. Sam had blatantly ignored that saying he was perfectly fine and didn't need anyone to tell him what to do._

 

_The line which had pretty much led them to where they were now; in a large house, in a cluttered room, probably somewhere none of them knew well._

 

_"I found-I found a flashlight," Sam suddenly called out. Luckily, it flickered on easily and lit up a good portion of the room. Pretty strong for a small light. Two more were found in an instant and handed off to his brother and the angel._

 

_"It's definitely a study," Castiel muttered after a few silent beats. He turned slowly around the room, the light spilling onto an old, elegant-looking wooden desk with a stack of papers wedged under one of the front legs. "And it couldn't have been abandon long…look." He nodded to a glass of what appeared to be water on the desk._

 

_"Could have been there for a while, though," Dean called over his shoulder from the large bookcase. "Might be Vodka."_

 

_The angel hesitated before leaning in. "It's water."_

 

_"…Never mind then."_

 

_Then, once again, there was silence as they all went on and did their own thing. Castiel continued to search around the desk, wondering why they were actually looking around the study in the first place. Dean was eyeing the books, reading the titles and authors on the spine. By just barely flashing the light on them he was able to see the coating of dust they all carried. Sam was over by the window, looking at the scatterings of antiques, spinning an old, quite large globe out of slight boredom._

 

_"We'll just stay here until it clears up," Sam had suggested knowingly. "Doesn't look like there's anything really…interesting here. Just something that looks like a headmaster's office in at some English boarding school in the early 1900's."_

 

_His brother snorted. "Because you would know what that looks like."_

 

_"Dean, fuck off."_

 

_From where he stood watching the two in amusement, Castiel shook his head and smiled lightly. "I tend to enjoy it when you two argue." He strode over to Sam and clapped him on the shoulder. "Can't help but say I'm on Dean's side for all of them."_

 

_He scoffed. "Are you kidding me? If I have an idea that seems good, you brush it off. If he has an idea you're all for it!"_

 

_"That's because," Dean trailed. "even on paper, your ideas suck."_

 

_"Thanks, D. Really. I genuinely thank you."_

 

_The angel laughed to himself just as a loud bang of thunder erupted through the house. He would have bypassed it, but the crash had then echoed as if it was a scream down a long hallway. Another strike and a longer echo, making the three look around anxiously._

 

_He caught eyes with Dean. "Was that it?"_

 

_Apparently not, because one more that was deafeningly loud and strong enough to break the windows erupted again and stayed hovering in the air for what seemed like minutes. But just before it died down, an erie voice came from nowhere._

 

**_One, brought together by two_ **

**_Unrelated, but close to you._ **

 

_The words had barely registered in the angel's head when a searing burning raged through his lower abdomen, causing him to wince. He held back any and all shouts of pain, however, merely nursing the-possible-wound with his left hand as he leaned against a small table. Luckily, the Winchesters hadn't noticed, keeping their focus on other things._

 

_"What's that supposed to mean," he managed to catch Sam whisper. Glancing over at him, he was able to see that the man was trying to piece the words together. A poem? A curse? Some sort of apocalyptic warning?_

 

**_As the time falls_ **

**_It will be the end of it all._ **

 

_Again, the words hadn't been repeated in Castiel's head before there was a zip-like crunching noise and Dean had screamed in pain, holding his stomach as he fell to the floor.  Castiel dropped all thoughts of the pain from the prior moment to bold across the room, screaming his best friend's name as he dropped beside him, the brother following suit. He took his head into his lap and looked worryingly into his clenched eyes, praying to God for some sort of ease to the pain for his friend._

 

_"Are you ok?"_

 

_Cas looked up. "What?"_

 

_"I asked if you were alright," Sam repeated. "Did you get hurt?"_

 

_"No," he whispered, surprised at how easy the lie had rushed out. "Perfectly fine. You?"_

 

_"Yeah. Not a scratch on me."_

 

_"…Good…"_

 

_The duo had managed to get Dean down to the car again-being carried by Castiel when he'd said he could barely sit up. The rain was now much lighter, allowing Sam to see while he drove his brother and the archangel who sat in the back seat, said angel trying to keep Dean calm. The poor man was shaking and in shock from the pain, and seemed slightly warm despite saying he was cold and had chills._

 

_Eventually, they'd just assumed that Dean was all right. But then again, in their hectic everyday lives, kinds of assumptions like these were foolish and usually didn't go unnoticed._

 

_*_

 

And Castiel was right. Just three weeks after the search through the study and hours on end of trying to figure out what those words meant, they were given their answer. Dean had woken up ill, spilling his previous meal out onto the floor. After careful consideration and some miraculous thinking, they had managed to figure out, unbelievably, that Dean was undoubtably pregnant. _Pregnant._ The three had jumped to the conclusion that whatever that was at the old house had done it since it had been ages since the man had gotten off with the help of someone else, let alone another man. 

 

And Cas was the one who figured out just exactly how it happened, without telling anyone due to his form of complete shock. The lines _one, brought together by two, unrelated, but close to you_ and the burning not seconds after indicated that he had something (major) to do with this whole ordeal. The baby-the _baby_ inside his best friend wasn't created from some sort of antichrist or demon-devil thing, but from whatever had been taken out of Castiel. 

 

Put two and two together. 

 

In conclusion, the baby was not only Dean's, but Castiel's as well. And it was unknown to the brothers. Why he was keeping it all a secret was due to the fact that he was (still in pure shock) trying to figure it out. Throughout the past few months, he'd become less talkative and more observant and thought more often than not. He now kept to himself. He still remained close to Dean, talking to him, but he had definitely set a new small distance between them. Small, but certainly noticeable. 

 

When Dean had first come to terms with the fact that he was carrying a child-that he was actually pregnant without physically conceiving-he was what looked like four months in. Sam was scared shitless, and he hadn't done anything in the first place. He was mainly afraid that his brother would fall ill or become seriously hurt or injured at the end of all of this. He knew that Dean just needed them both there. This was beyond anything any of them had ever experienced and against the laws of nature, yet there they were. 

 

Castiel remembered when he found his best friend standing in the middle of the kitchen one day staring down at his stomach with furrowed brows, a hand cupping it. From what he could tell, the man had been able to feel his child move, flutter in the slightest way that made Dean rethink the entire problem. Maybe, Castiel had thought, he was agreeing with whatever higher power allowed this to happen that it was all going to be ok in the end. There weren't any strange flying objects or odd things to be accounted for; maybe this wasn't a demonic act like originally thought. 

 

"She moved," he'd whispered when he noticed Cas standing a few feet away.

 

The angel swore that his heart fluttered and his stomach flipped. _"She?"_

 

"Fatherly instincts, I guess. Just seems like it's a girl…I don't know anything about girls."

 

Castiel gave Dean a small, slightly sad and nervous smile. 

 

His best friend was having a baby, the baby that was his as well, but wouldn't be known until its birth. The birth that was scaring the angel and the brother who talked about it indirectly. They didn't know how it was going to happen; would he go into labor, or would they just opt to go straight for a c-section? It was scary, and they had to crack down and decide soon, because they didn't think Dean would last much longer. 

 

When the clock turned to three AM, something that felt like a matter of only a few seconds, Castiel heard a quiet forced cluttering porcelain mugs from the kitchen. This struck his curiosity, and he trailed out of his room, the sudden draft getting to him.

 

"You're up early."

 

Sam spun around from where he stood by the coffee pot, eyes wide as if he just caught his breath. "Oh…Yeah, I couldn't sleep." A silent beat. "Seems you couldn't either."

 

He huffed lightly. "When do I sleep? Honestly?"

 

"True. Coffee?"

 

Castiel shook his head and watched Sam lazily flick the coffee drip on before turning and leaning with his back against the countertop, his arms crossed over his chest and head tipped back. 

 

"A lot on your mind?"

 

The young man grunted in response and sighed heavily. "I'm afraid for him…y'know?"

 

"Mh…" Castiel had been since they'd found out. They both had. Sleepless nights were something that they also endured. 

 

"Why do you think it happened? _How_ did it even happen?"

 

"I think that…it was a curse or, something in that house was a bewitchment. Nothing that has to do with Hell, or the Devil or anything. At least, I have high doubts it does."

 

"I don't want to even catch myself thinking that…Can't really see my brother harmed in any way. Then again…we both have been through a lot of shit in the past."

 

"I think hell is a better term for that."

 

"S'pose so."

 

There was a long, quiet beep from the drip, alerting Sam. For the next hour or so, the duo sat in semi silence as several cups of coffee were downed as the angel just watched. Every few minutes, one or the other would bring up a something meaningless and that would be their only conversation for the time being. 

 

Things like _Why are you wearing that overcoat?_ and _Because it's warm._ or _You're really not tired?_ and _No._

 

They were interrupted a while later when Dean stumbled tiredly into the room, scrubbing at his eyes.

 

"Hey." Castiel stood from his chair and walked over to greet his friend. "Are you alright?"

 

Dean nodded. "Yeah. I just heard you guys talking…Why are you two up?"

 

"I couldn't sleep," Sam shrugged. "I made coffee and Cas came in a little while later."

 

"I'm guessing you were already awake, then?" Dean turned to the angel, not even close to surprised when he had nodded.

 

After a few moments, Castiel spoke, "How are you this morning?"

 

Dean managed to get in a long, refreshing breath. "I'm alright. She's pretty calm right now." He flopped awkwardly into a chair, Castiel standing behind him. His best friend's stomach had literally grown out to the point where his large hoodie-a dark one that he was currently wearing-had barely covered the roundness of his once flat abdomen. 

 

"How are you so sure it's a girl?" his brother piped up. "It could be a boy. You haven't gone for any scans or anything, which in the long-run is probably potentially dangerous."

 

"Sammy, I'm sure of it," he murmured. "I can just tell…it's a weird thing to say, but it _feels_ like it." 

 

Castiel was sure he was the only one that had noticed Dean's half-second of a faltered expression and hear his faint grunt before he began rubbing irritably at his belly. It worried him, but then it was completely brushed off by Dean's slight struggle in getting up.

 

"I'm gonna run to the bathroom," he announced. "I'll be quick."

 

The angel all but watched his friend leave the room before turning and staring at the other man. In the past months, Sam had been the one to lead the conversations and talk more than Cas had. He'd taken it upon himself in the quietest of moments to bring up a random starter topic. He could tell that he was about to until he heard a crash from the other room, followed shortly by a yell of pain. 

 

Without warning, the two raced upstairs and found Dean on the tile floor in the bathroom, on his knees and leaning against the cabinets. He was struggling to breathe, and his teeth were clenched. The tile around him was stained a vibrant red and Sam had immediately dropped beside him.

 

"D-Dean! What's wrong? Can you speak?"

 

His brother's eyes were screwed shut for a minute before cracking open slowly. "I-it hurts," he managed to release. His panting was heavy, his teeth ramming into his bottom lip and drawing blood. Too much blood for one room. 

 

Castiel stood motionless in the doorway, unable to move or function, just stare with sympathy and horror at him, his heart wrenching.

 

"Let's get you to a bed so we can figure something out…You're gonna be ok."

 

Sam scooped his brother up, willing himself not to cry as he carried him to his room and placed him on the fluffy comforter, blood beginning to stain that as well. But it wasn't the manner of importance at the moment; it was Dean and his child. Dean, whose face had dipped to a lowly pale and his child who was most definitely in sure danger.

 

And then the angel remembered _the end of it all._

 

"He's hemorrhaging," Castiel breathed. 

 

Sam snapped his head around to look at the angel, interrupting his comforting towards his brother. _"What?"_

 

"He's hemorrhaging," he repeated in a toneless voice. Though he swore his face was showing all signs of worry. "They're dying."

 

"W-what am I supposed to do…?" 

 

"She's dying inside me," Dean breathed weakly. His eyes were heavy and his head lolled to the side, looking at his brother through foggy eyes. "You-you have to cut her out…"

 

Sam looked wide-eyed at his brother for a long moment, then whispering a quick "I can't."

 

"Sammy, _please!_ I'm bleeding to death…" He struggled to keep conscious as the pain seeded through him. "Just…please…do something."

 

Finally, he nodded. "Ok…I will. I promise I will." He looked up at Castiel. "I managed to get ahold of some things a few months ago…Scalpels and surgical scissors and things…and a baster-because I couldn't exactly get a suction or something. Don't ask how…but I got nervous…They're in the bottom-left drawer in the dresser."

 

Castiel stayed silent but obeyed Sam's indirect command. In a large container, filled to the brim, were tools needed for this kind of procedure. It was definitely shocking and something practically unimaginable for Sam to do. Yet again, unimaginable for anyone to do if they had no medical experience whatsoever. He hauled it over next to the bed but stood back.

 

"There aren't any forms of anesthetics in here," Sam muttered.

 

"We don't have time for that. I can figure something out to hold him over at the end."

 

There was no response as Sam lifted and folded Dean's hoodie so it stayed. If was moved he felt that it would cause his brother too much pain to endure. Instead, he opted for a slightly better, more comfortable option. 

 

"Please save her," Dean had begun repeating. "Please…save her. Not me."

 

"You're both gonna be fine in a few minutes. Breathe, just breathe."

 

"N-no…make sure she's alright first…" His head tilted back and his jaw clenched tightly in severe pain.

 

There was a long, shaky atmosphere as Sam's hands hovered over Dean's exposed round belly, unable to make a move to begin.

 

"I can't do it," he whispered, eyes teary. The thought of saving his brother was one thing, but having to cut deeply into him in order to do it made him shaky and afraid that something would go horribly wrong. He wasn't even sure why he invested in the tools in the first place. (And then he remembered that no one really knew about Dean's condition and they couldn't exactly take him to the hospital without some conspiracy theory.) 

 

Castiel looked over at his best friend who was growing weaker and paler by the minute, his eyes closed. The baby inside him-their daughter-was killing him, and quite possibly dying herself. It was a spur of the moment and instinctive act, but he pushed Sam away and took the scalpel from him. 

 

"Dean, breath alright," he commanded. "You're both going to be fine…" The last part was reassurance mainly for himself.

 

And then he got going. With a pure concentration expression on his face, Castiel dragged the sharp tool along the lower rounding of Dean Winchester's stomach, blood beginning to drip slowly from the incision. With a clamp, he gently held it open as he slipped on a pair of gloves that were flopped inside the container. He wasn't exactly sure how sanitary everything was, but he'd be able to fix that in an instant. Inside, he began to focus solely on cutting through what needed to be in order to safely deliver the baby. 

 

He managed to deflate the outer surroundings needed as he came close to where he baby had been developing in the past months. A snip, a few quick-thinking mechanisms and soon he was cutting the baby out of the womb inside his best friend. His heart was pounding, and his hand had been a little shaky, but Castiel lifted the baby from Dean's weak body and used the baster in place of suction in the nose and the newborn's mouth, just as the wailing begun. He managed to glance at Sam who stood in fear and awe watching, but gave him a curt nod as if to say, _"they'll be alright."_

 

A quick snip and clamping of the umbilical cord was done before shrugged off his trench coat and wrapped the baby snuggly inside it after being cleaned just barely. He closed the wound in seconds-a miracle at work on his behalf and power-before gently placing the baby on the new father's chest.

 

"She's safe," he whispered to his best friend. "Your daughter's safe." _Their_ daughter.

 

Dean's breaths were slow and heavy as he looked in exhaustion at the newborn, awe-struck.

 

Castiel nodded gently before turning and heading out of the room.

 

"Cas…" He stopped. "Thank you."

 

There was a beat of silence as the angel whispered, "You're welcome" and headed off outside.

 

The air was crisp and the sun was just beginning to rise. Castiel stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared out blankly into nothing. His thoughts were penetrated with visions of his daughter and Dean, and every ounce of his being was thankful for them both being perfectly okay. She was healthy, and small. So incredibly _small,_ and he originally thought she'd be a bit bigger with Dean's stomach size. This was all too surreal, so pinching himself probably wouldn't make anything feel more…true.

 

Castiel's head was elsewhere. He wanted to go back inside, but he needed to calm down and breathe for a little while. It was probably unhealthy the amount of thinking he'd done in the past few months, and due to everything that's happened, he's sure it's almost a permanent scar on his brain and like a curse that he'd begin to over think everything from there on out. For instance, it dawned on him then that he hadn't even held his daughter properly. But, no one but him knew that it _was_ his daughter as well as Dean's. So obviously if he held her with such love and care then the brothers would have questioned it. But he felt guilty now that he didn't and-

 

_God, stop thinking._

 

He closed his eyes and just focused on his breathing. Breathing, calming himself down…

 

"You've been out here a while."

 

Castiel jumped at the sudden new voice. He turned only head head to see Sam standing a few feet behind him.

 

"Yeah…"

 

"Are you ok? You left pretty quick…I thought that I did something wrong-"

 

"No. You didn't do anything. I just…"

 

They were silent for a moment before Sam turned to him. "I can't believe how right he was. About the baby being  girl."

 

Castiel nodded. "Fatherly instincts…like he said."

 

"Yeah." Sam walked up next to him. "You're thinking too hard."

 

He chuckled. "When don't I?"

 

"What's wrong? Cas, seriously-"

 

"That night…that-those words, those lines whatever they were…Something happened. Obviously Dean…he's a father now, but he wasn't the only one that felt something."

 

The man's eyes widened. "You got hurt? I asked if you were alright, you said you were fine!"

 

"I was. It was a sting, but just before he got hurt…You know that you need two parents to make a baby, right, Sam?" He looked over at him.

 

By the realization in his eyes, Castiel knew that Sam had pieced everything together. 

 

"O-oh my God…Castiel."

 

"Stop."

 

"When did you figure it all out?"

 

"You said it yourself; I think too hard."

 

A silent beat. "It explains why she has blue eyes."

 

He swore, _fuck,_ he swore his heart fluttered. "Y-yeah. But all babies have blue eyes when they're born."

 

"But bright blue?" he quizzed. "I'm not sure about that."

 

_Bright blue…the baby had opened her eyes…_

 

"Go see her, Cas. You really didn't get a chance."

 

He nodded and headed back inside, a newfound yearning for his daughter and Dean. He skipped the the last step at the top, eager to see them. When he returned to the room, the new father was sitting in an awkward position as he cradled the little girl close to his chest, whispering softly.

 

Dean looked up and gave Castiel a small smile. "Hey."

 

"Hi."

 

He walked over slowly and pulled the chair from the desk next to the bed, falling into it slowly. "She's beautiful."

 

"I'm so happy she's alright." Dean's lips pursed into a thin line, his eyes meeting Castiel's. "Why did you run out of here so quickly…?"

 

How was he supposed to tell Dean that the baby that was cuddled in his arms, eyes closed with long lashes resting against soft cheeks, was also his? He was nervous, but he had to at one point.

 

"Her eyes are blue," he said, bypassing the question completely.

 

"I know. You didn't answer my question."

 

"Just…listen please…for a few minutes."

 

With a long minute of pure silence and hesitation, Castiel finally spoke, explaining his reasoning, all while looking from the baby, to Dean, and back again. It was a strange theory, but in truth…it wasn't a lie. The whole ordeal of hours on end of thinking and how he finally figured out that the pain had no affect on _him,_ but seconds later on Dean himself, would only explain everything. And if  that wasn't enough-

 

"…then look at her eyes."

 

And Dean did.

 

"Even Sam said they shouldn't be _that_ blue when a baby's born."

 

He sighed, "I-…you're right. And I'd say this impossible, but with what we deal with all the time, I can't really debate otherwise…Where _is_ Sammy, anyway?"

 

"Outside still…probably."

 

"Oh."

 

Dean looked down at hi-no. _Their_ daughter and smiled at her. "Your coat's ruined now," he whispered."

 

"There are much more important things than a coat, Dean."

 

"I know…I feel bad. Sorry." He paused. "You didn't really get a chance to hold her."

 

Castiel shook his head.

 

"Here." He tried to sit up, but the angel met him halfway when he winced in pain. 

 

"Easy…lay down, you'll feel better," he encouraged, taking the girl from him. 

 

She immediately, as if she knew exactly who Castiel was, relaxed in his hold and yawned gently. Her eyes opened for a few seconds and she looked up at him, blinking tiredly before closing them slowly once again. He smiled genuinely for the first time in a long while at the infant, thumb caressing her soft cheek gently. When he had first handed her off to Dean, she was covered in blood and her light hair was matted against her head. Sam must have cleaned her off because now she was clean and her skin was downy, and she definitely and smelled clean when Cas dipped his head down to kiss her. She was also wrapped in a soft blanket as well as his trench coat, probably due to the fact there was a small draft in the room and she needed keep warm.

 

"She's yours…then she's part angel, isn't she?"

 

He looked up at Dean and nodded. "A part, yeah. I'm not sure she'll have as many qualities, but she'll still be one. Figuratively, if anything."

 

Dean smiled, his head turned against the pillow and looking at Castiel tiredly, his chest rising and falling heavily with exhaustion.

 

"Sleep," he whispered. "I've got her."

 

"But…we have to name her."

 

"We can wait. It'll be fine."

 

"She need a name-"

 

 _"Dean_ , _"_ he sighed, exasperated. "You're exhausted."

 

"No I'm not."

 

"Stop. Rest, Dean. Please."

 

"Cas…please."

 

He closed his eyes. There really wasn't any point in arguing with a man who had done so much, been through so much and did such a good job. "Alright. Alright…Do you have anything in mind?"

 

Dean blinked slowly and reached a hand out to rub their daughter's head, stopping and looking at Castiel. "Claire," he suggested confidently. "She looks like a Claire."

 

He smiled, heart fluttering and stomach turning excitedly. "Claire…perfect." 

 

He then leaned forward and did something completely out of the blue and rare, and kissed Dean's forehead, letting it linger for a long moment. 

 

"Now sleep. I've got her."

 

And Dean did, for a good four hours while Castiel walked around his bedroom, swaying, kissing, and holding their new daughter closely. He was happy, and he wasn't afraid anymore. Castiel's high doubts of the baby having any demonic traces were diminished to complete confidence. He vowed to protect their daughter, no matter what he, Dean, and Sam go through or had to deal with, fight, no matter what. 

 

That was a promise he knew he'd keep.

 

 


End file.
